


between a bug and a hard place

by moss_mostmagnifique, saharadunes



Category: Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: (hopefully rip), Alternate Universe - Cryptids, Based On Buzzfeed Unsolved, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Needles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stitches, Supernatural Elements, gay shit, i'm in this one for the long haul, its not that bad but like.... just in case its easy to skip over, mothman's in it guys, y'all are gonna have a good time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moss_mostmagnifique/pseuds/moss_mostmagnifique, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saharadunes/pseuds/saharadunes
Summary: “Hello, everyone! It’s your host, Gordon Freeman, and welcome back to another episode of Bubbyfreeman: Unsolved! Where I take you through this week's spook and tell youexactlyhow false it is."Gordon Freeman is an average guy. Sure, he runs a supernatural video series, but that's for fun. It's not like any of it is real.... Well, at least, as far ashe'sconcerned.
Relationships: Benrey & Bubby (Half-Life), Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby & Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Tommy Coolatta & Sunkist (Half-Life)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 196





	1. MEETING THE MOTHMAN???? (NOT CLICKBAIT)

**Author's Note:**

> ohh yeah!!! it's time for... Baby's First Fic!
> 
> big big BIIIG thanks to my rad co-authors/betas, mossmostmagnificent and abstractAmbiguity!!  
> alsooo my tumblr is @sweetvoiceuser if you guys want updates on this! i have cryptid au brainrot :pensive:  
> if you ever want to talk to me im ALWAYS here and im always ready to go batshit over this au. Thank You For Your Time  
> ______  
> Hello from co-author Two, Moss! Shoutout to sahara, they're a great writer, I'd ask that you kindly check more of their shit OUT.!  
> My writing tumblr is @garfield-will-be-in-dune but I don't post much hlvrai to it yet, jej  
> My main is @mossmostmagnificent, where I do, in fact, post hlvrai  
> I am also entirely willing to go batshit over the AU with whoever cares to discuss it! Have a good one, everyone.

“Hello, everyone! It’s your host, Gordon Freeman, and welcome back to another episode of Bubbyfreeman: Unsolved! Today we’re checking out some  _ supposedly _ ‘haunted’ houses in the middle of Lost Springs woods.”   
  
Gordon waves just beyond the camera.   
  
“Everyone say hello to... Bubby, BFU’s dedicated cameraman.”   
  
A voice, disdainful and muffled behind the camera -  _ “Just get on with it, Freeman.” _

Gordon rolls his eyes, but continues. “Anyways. Some background info - seven years ago, there were three families living - “

The perspective shifts, just enough to plant it in reality.

Gordon Freeman was sitting at his computer in the middle of the night with his editing software. He rubbed his eyes before setting to work.

_ God. Why did Bubby ask for so many visual gags. This one’s gonna take forever. Why doesn’t he - ugh. Sometimes I regret ever making the stupid show. … It’s fun, though, usually.  _

Gordon leant back in his chair to stretch.  _ Oof. I don’t want to know what that w - _ BANG. Gordon fell backwards onto the ground as  _ something  _ slammed into his balcony window.

Gordon yelped.  _ Oh, what the fuck. Was that a - a bird? _ He stood up and rubbed the back of his head. Ouch. Gordon moved to open up the door to his itty bitty shitty apartment’s balcony - cautious. He heard  _ something _ . Something very much Not A Bird moving outside. Something far, far bigger, from the sound of it.

He opened up the door to -  _ What is that…? Oh. - _ to something that Gordon would recognize anywhere -  _ No fucking way. -  _ with slick, slightly iridescent black skin and glowing red eyes, the jumble of limbs lying on his balcony was irrefutably -  _ Is that the Mothman? _

It was, apparently, the Mothman. The being was somewhat humanoid - if not for its extra set of arms and massive pair of wings. Its arms looked to me more stick-like than its fat body would suggest they be. It had what looked like a helmet on its head with two antennae sticking out of it.  _ Those look… soft. _ The Mothman was covered almost head to toe in downy fur. Well, except for...for... - _ Holy shit, is it bleeding? _

It spoke, in a deep voice, slightly muffled by its inhuman mouth shape.

“he- hey. you got, uhhh, playstation plus?” 

And then it collapsed. 

_ Oh, what the hell -  _ Gordon dashed forward to check out whatever  _ The Mothman _ was bleeding from. Right at the base of its right wing, between - shoulder plates? Was what looked to be a bullet wound.  _ Fuck. Shit, what am I supposed to - _ Gordon tried to concentrate on what he learned about open wounds in his college health class.  _ Uh - Pressure, stitches - Do I have any -  _ A lightbulb. The first aid kit he kept in his bathroom! Gordon let out a sigh of relief before remembering the task at hand. Mothman. Right.

Gordon put his arms around the limp body of Mothman and hefted it into his arms in a princess-carry. Mothman was surprisingly light, and Gordon deposited him on his slightly-trashed couch.    
  
The Mothman let out a whine of pain, shifting uncomfortably.   
  
_ Oh, no.  _ Gordon thought.  _ I’m getting Attached. _

Gordon’s mind was a bit of a blur as he scrambled for the first-aid kit. It’s only after he cleaned the wound and took out the needle and thread before he realized what, exactly, he was about to do. He winced as he began to put in the stitches, paying close attention whenever it began to shift or squeak. Since it was a smaller, almost surface wound, he was able to take out the bullet when it seemed like the Mothman needed a break.

“You’re lucky you’ve got those plates, little guy…” Gordon was somewhat uncomfortable using the same voice he used for injured animals, but he didn’t know what else to do.   
  
“You’re gonna be super alright. Stay still for a while, and then I’m gonna get the last stitches up.”

“huh…? wha?”    
  
“Shit. Uh, don’t worry about it, I’m gonna get you patched up in - in no time.”   
  
“stop... stop bro that h… that hurts.”

“It’s, uh, it’s going to be fine. It’s gonna hurt a hell of a lot more if I don’t get this fixed.”

The Mothman, fortunately, had only roused to mumble that before going unconscious again. 

“Oh, thank God you’re zonked out. I was worried.” The rest of the procedure went smoothly, but Gordon kept an eye on the Mothman’s consciousness.  _ Shit. Will- if I pat his head, will he stay asleep? _ Gordon tentatively supported Mothman’s head with his own arm.  _ Holy shit. This is.. This is a soft… thing. That’s probably weird. _

Once the stitches were in place, Gordon left the Mothman lying on the couch.

Gordon took a seat at where he was previously editing the video - _Hah, like he was going to get any work done now -_ and just. Took a moment. _It’s - It’s not even like any of this is real. I’ve gotta be dreaming. I mean, the Mothman? Completely fake._   
  
Gordon takes a look at the Mothman currently lying on his couch.  
  
_… Probably fake. This is probably just some crazy lucid dream. I mean, what kind of Mothman looks like -_

“bro were you staring at me? that’s… kind of gay.”

“I - What? No, I - “

“at least take me to gamestop first, not cool man.”

In the  _ however  _ long Gordon took to gather himself, It appeared that the Mothman had woken up. It was staring at his bright computer screen with big, red eyes. It had shifted its position slightly so as to be in a more upright position. 

“so? you gonna say anything but little baby gargle words?” 

“What? ...Oh, fuck off. I - nevermind. Are you - okay? I just stitched up a  _ bullet wound _ . I may be a little rusty with my med skills but - you probably shouldn’t be moving like that after getting stitches.”

The Mothman was silent. If Gordon were any closer, he might have noticed a soft  _ chht-chht-chht _ noise coming from the Mothman. But he wasn't. So he didn’t. 

“...Also, are you the - the Mothman?”

“you know the name the mothman is actually really offensive to me. name’s benry.”

“... Benrey? Are you fucking with me?”

“benry.”   
  
“That’s not an answer.”

Benry makes a mocking ‘mmmeh-mnyeh-nennehh’ sound as he jerkily gets up from the couch. There are visible bloodstains on it.  _ Fuck, I don’t think those are coming out _ . Mothm- Benry looks around Gordon’s small apartment before siccing himself on Gordon’s kitchen.    
  
“nice crib. anyway bro you got any Flamin’ Hot Doritos™?”

“Those are… those are disgusting. I haven't eaten a Dorito in years. You have a problem, Benry.”

“fuckin loser doesn’t even have Flamin’ Hot Doritos™ …”

“Hey, no, you don’t get to fucking say that to me. _You’re_ the one who crashed into _my_ house, _bleeding_ everywhere from a fucking _bullet wound_ , _and -_ wait. Hold the phone. How the _hell_ did you even get shot in the first place, _Benry?_ Aren’t you supposed to be elusive or something?”

“hey don’t diss my brand maybe i meant to get shot huh maybe i was jumping in front of a - in front of some dog in the street you don’t know me.”

“I  _ know _ that is a lie. God. Why do I even bother.”

Gordon would drag his hands down his face were it not for the fact that he had to watch Benry, as he had already ransacked three of Gordon’s cupboards. He apparently didn’t find what he was looking for. As he made to open a fourth cabinet and unwind more of Gordon’s patience, Benry’s focus locked on to something. He made a beeline - _ or, well, I guess moth-line is more appropriate - _ for whatever it was that he had -  _ was that one of my old shirts? What is he - oh. Eugh. … I guess that’s on brand, though. _

Benry’s voice was muffled around the shirt that he was currently eating.

“why didn’t you tell me you had this kinda grub in the first place bro you're holding out on me.”

Gordon stared at Benry. He scrubbed his face in exasperation.  _ It’s far too late for this kind of bullshit. _ He checked his computer’s clock -  _ 1:27, jeez - _ and sighed. Gordon let out a sort of - breathy giggle. The sort that only really sees the light when you realize that your life is a mess and Mothman is eating your shirt and  _ God, no one’s ever going to believe me. _

“Alright. Fucking - you know what? I’m too tired for this. Do what you want. Just - don’t eat any more of my shit,  _ Mothman.  _ Goodnight.”

  
Gordon took one look at the slightly-bloodied couch and plopped himself on it. He fell asleep almost immediately, but not before hearing the soft  _ chhtt-chht-chhht _ of something near his head.


	2. it's bubby monday, folks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out it wasn't a dream. 
> 
> Gordon checks in with a friend. 
> 
> A certain _someone_ is irresponsible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD. less than 24 hours and you guys get another one. have fun
> 
> my tumblr is @sweetvoiceuser moss' is @mossmostmagnificent as always big thanks to her!!!!
> 
> also dont get on my ass about the title every day is bubby monday if you love him enough. also fuck html WHY did it take that long to tell me how to put a line page break

_Yawn._ Gordon woke up to the feeling of light shining in his eyes from the door of his - open balcony? He winced before shifting his position on his uncomfortable couch. _Why did I…? whatever. There was no way I had a reason. The sleepy has no reason._   
  
He groaned a bit at the prospect of Getting Up before doing so and stretching. His back cracked. _That’s probably not good._ His eyes widened as he remembered the dream he had. _The Mothman! What a trip. It almost felt real. Too bad, I guess._

As Gordon gathered his bearings, his eyes caught on something. It was the shirt that the Mothman -  _ Benry? - _ had eaten. He snapped into lucidity and picked it up.  _ Oh no. Oh, fuck.  _ He did a quick once-over of his couch to check that, yes, there was still blood on it, and  _ holy fucking shit it wasn’t a dream it was all- it was all real. _

Gordon’s breathing sped up as he realized some Very Important Things: that the supernatural he’d made a brand out of disbelieving was  _ very real _ , the Mothman had visited his house last night, and that Bubby was going to  _ laugh his ass off. _

Gordon scrambled for his phone - still left lying on the kitchen counter, thankfully left unscathed by Benry’s siege the previous night. He dialed the familiar number of his channel's co-creator and waited anxiously for a response, half-chewed shirt still in hand.

“Hello, Gordon Freeman. The hour is ungodly, why are you on the line at only  _ ten _ in the morning?” 

“I’m - Hello to you too, Bubby - “

“Yeah, hello away. You better, Freeman!”

“Bubby. Bubby, I need you to meet with me and tell me that I’m not going  _ fucking insane _ .”

His tone softened, as much as it ever had. “Oh, I doubt it, Gordon. You’re one of the most grounded people I know! You only shout bloody death at the coffee machine after ten minutes instead of five! You can trust me.”

“You are the  _ last _ person I would believe that from, but thanks, man. I, uh - I’ll tell you about it when we meet. Lunch?”

“Lunch is a social construct! God, I hate lunches. Late brunch, motherfucker! And it better be at a diner!”

“I… Yeah, sure. Brunch. Whatever. Would you settle for Applebee’s?”

“The idea of going to an Applebee’s revolts me! It’s a deal! Twelve noon precisely, Gordon?”

“Sounds great. I’ll be there. Don’t set anything on fire.”

“Not yet, I won’t!” And Bubby hung up. Loudly. - _ God, why does he still have that kind of phone? _

Gordon sighed as he put down his phone.  _ It’s going to be a long day. _ Once he was presentable, he made his way out of his apartment and to his Jeep.

He arrived at the Applebee’s around 15 minutes before noon. 

Bubby was a thin, short older man in a pale green button up, with slightly grey-tinted skin and hair that was ridiculously spiky. And he was already there, arms crossed like he was upset. Well, he was always upset. 

Gordon gave him an anxious wave as he walked in. Bubby nodded in return, and motioned an invitation. The bastard was clutching a notebook, obviously intending to mine Gordon’s distress for future content.

“How’s it going, Gordon? You certainly don’t seem to be in a rush, is everything better?” 

Gordon winced, “I - Maybe? Look, I - I’m pretty sure I met the fucking  _ Mothman _ last night. ...Yeah, I know, laugh it up.”

Instead, Bubby’s face lit up in a genuine smile. “Oh, I believe you. Tell me, what did they look like? Could they speak?”

“Uh - He had, like, big moth wings? And he was - furry? I think? Look, I don’t remember most of it because he crashed into my house at midnight with a  _ gunshot wound _ .”

“Oh, shit! That sounds quite serious. I remember my first bullet wound… unpleasant stuff, Gordon!” His sunglasses made a quiet whir as he spoke. They usually did, though. He claimed to have several medical conditions. 

Gordon suddenly remembered the various conflicting claims he’d made through the years, but he wasn’t in the state for any new ideas.

“Wait, you’ve been - ? Bubby? Actually, don’t tell me.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” He didn’t seem genuinely upset, despite the malice that practically dripped from every other sentence of his.

“Pfft, yeah. Don’t even  _ think  _ about talking to me.” Joking. 

Bubby nodded solemnly, and waited for the waitress to arrive to order a meal to complain about. The rest of the meeting carried on pretty much normally, with Bubby constantly whining to anyone who would listen about how “The water quality is all wrong, it doesn’t have the scent or feel of proper spring water. Honestly! Atrocious… And don’t get me started abo—” on and on. 

Gordon almost appreciated the familiar background noise as he tried to take his mind off of Benry and the mystery that he’d been thrown into.

* * *

_ Dear Joshua,  _

_ Hey, buddy! It’s been a while since my last letter. Daddy’s job has been going good. Yes, so has the ‘other job.’ I know you love to hear about the spooky show. I hope your mom has been treating you well. How is preschool going? I want to hear all about it. Have you made any new friends? Do you like your teachers? What’s your fav _ — __

Gordon’s letter-writing was interrupted by the now-recognizable sound of something slamming into his balcony. It sounded a little less cacophonous this time.  _ Not again,  _ he thought with as much vitriol as he could, trying to quash his hope of seeing Benry again. 

Gordon rushed outside to a familiar sight. Benry, seemingly more lucid, was perched on his railing. Gordon felt relief wash over him as he saw that yes, Benry was alive and okay and _ \- is he… holding himself weirdly? What - _

“bro you must have fucked something up because i’m bleeding again. not a very pro gamer move of you.”

Gordon froze as he spotted the blood trickling from the wound that he had stitched up the day before. He grabbed one of Benry’s hands (not thinking about how cold It was) and dragged him inside.

“You idiot, did you break your fucking stitches? Damnnit, now I have to get out the first aid kit again. Sit your ass down on the couch, don’t move.”

“brooo… chill out man its not my fault you did shitty stitches...”

“Benry. That’s your name? I know it is, why did I even ask? Benry, you are going to get stitches again and then you are going to  _ stay still _ for at least another day. I will  _ tie _ you to a chair.  _ No. Flying.  _ I mean it!    
  


“If you come in here again, with your little ‘ooh dude man bro please you fucked this up do another stitches’ I  _ SWEAR TO GOD _ . Now stay. still.”

“okay bro jeez you didn’t have to be so mean. you’re so mean to me.” Benry grumbles as he sits down on the couch. 

Gordon tried to say something more as he got the kit, but couldn’t produce anything other than a wordless yell.

As he cleaned the wound for a  _ second _ time, the stitching process was mostly the same.  _ Well, except for the fact that Benry keeps fucking moving and making inane comments about the PlayStation, _ Gordon thought.

“are you done yet? i gotta blast, bro.”

“Oh, no. You will be doing no  _ ‘blasting’  _ of any sort. You are -”    
  


“wow bro really? that kind of stuff is private give a man some privacy.”

“ - going to leave when - What? Oh, fuck  _ off _ , dude! Don’t twist my words, you  _ know _ what I meant, you asshole.”

“so now you aren’t letting me talk, huh? you want to hide the truth? own up to your mistakes bro. its okay bro i’m gonna forgive you. you should apologize now so that i can stop hating you.”

“Shut! Up! Fucking - I’m literally the one giving you stiches right now. Who’s to say I don’t just - what did you say? Fuck it up? Now be  _ quiet _ and let me  _ finish this _ .”

Shockingly, Benry did stay quiet, save for a few pained grunts and incomprehensible statements. Once Gordon snipped the last stitch, Benry took that as his cue to leave. He got up, stiff from being still for that long, and stumbled towards the door of Gordon’s apartment. Just as he was about to step out the door and probably never see Gordon again, he froze.

Without turning around, he mumbled something. 

“hey man i don't want to get shot again. can i crash here.”

Gordon had to take a moment to process what, exactly, Benry was proposing. 

“Are - are you suggesting that we be fucking -  _ roommates? _ I don’t....” Gordon trailed off as it hit him that  _ No, I can’t just leave him in the street to get hunted like an animal. God. Goddamnit. _

Gordon sighed. “Yes. Fine. You can stay here, Benry.”

“oh that’s cool because i was going to stay here no matter what you said, hah.” Despite his comment, he seemed relieved.

  
Gordon looked at the Mothman - Benry,  _ his roommate, now, apparently _ , and - smiled, weakly.  _ What the hell have I just gotten myself into _ . Benry was looking at him. (Turns out Gordon was the brightest thing in the room.)


	3. gordon freeman is a bitch-ass motherfucker, that's right -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are domestic. 
> 
> The chaos is doubled.
> 
> We get a glimpse into something sinister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaah another one! it's been a bit :pleading_face: the next chapter should be out sooner. alsooo tried out a different formatting.. thing comment if it reads well html is Not something im familiar with :pesnuce:
> 
> as always big thanks to moss and autumn for their help on this!!! my tumblr is @sweetvoiceusers, and the others' are @mossmostmagnificent and @morphlingunderscore respectively! also if you make art PLEASE tag me literally we love that shit it fuels me like nothin else...

Gordon and Benry had woken about three hours before, but neither got up until Benry demanded pancakes.

“it’s  _ the _ most important part of an, uh, balanced breakfast, dude. are you trying to starve me? don’t you want me to live? i want pancakes.”

“Okay, man. First off, go fuck yourself. If you want pancakes,  _ you _ will make them, I would-- I’ll even show you. You know what? I will take time out of  _ my day _ to teach your lazy ass to make pancakes. Come here.”

Gordon took out the ingredients, and asked Benry to get the bowls. He got eight, one of which he just scratched at with the little antennae around his mouth.  _ It’s.. almost cute, I guess.  _ Benry managed to pierce through the plastic bowl, and then tried to tear it apart.  _ Jeez. Nevermind. _

“what the hell. this isn’t pancakes.” His voice was muffled, even more so around the plastic that he was eating.

“You - I have to pay for those! Bowls don’t grow on trees! Just pick two and put them on the counter.”

He did, and the mixing went smoothly until it was time to add the eggs. 

“hey is this how this is supposed to go?” Benry had skewered an egg with his mandibles, and yolk was beginning to drip down his face.

Gordon had to stare blankly for a few seconds before responding. “Wh...  _ No! _ That’s literally-- that’s-- No, Benry! Why can’t you do  _ anything?” _

Gordon grabbed Benry, threw the egg away, and had just begun trying to clean the egg white from Benry’s mandible when--

The door to the apartment flew open, and standing in the doorway was Dr. Bubby, detonator in hand. 

“Hello Gordon! Since you haven’t been responding to my faxes, I thought it only appropriate that I break int-- Oh, my. Am I interrupting something? You should get a room, Mr. Freeman.”

Gordon uncomfortably took his hand off of Benry’s mandible. 

“Now now, Gordon, don't stop on my account! ...Except definitely  _ do,  _ that is disgusting!”

“... Is that a  _ bomb? _ ”

“It used to be! Now, we’re getting behind on recordings, you know. Your boyfriend can come, but we need to get a move on if we’re going through with this episode! We don’t have permission to film there!”

“He’s not my - Whatever. You mean you don’t see anything else wrong with this picture? You mean nothing is weird?”

“Gordon, I won’t accept homophobia here. Are you homophobic?”

“No? What is even making you  _ think  _ that!”

“That sounds like denial. If you’re homophobic, you can feel safe telling me! I will judge you harshly and without restraint!”

“wow that’s so lame bro love is love. can’t believe i thought you were - that you were cool, you homophobia.”

“Well, Gordon, I’m loathe to do this, but if your boyfriend says you’re homophobic, I believe him. You need to stop soon, though, since this series is the source of all of my fame, and I refuse to give up my limelight! And as I’ve told you, I  _ have _ a husband!” 

“You have a  _ what, _ Bubby?”

“So you  _ are _ homophobic. I will have to write this down, so that I can make a call-out post on my twitter-dot-com.”

“fuckin’ loser just, uh, come out and say it. i’m not eating any of your shitty pancakes.”

“You’re the one who wanted them in the first place! Fucking - I’m not homophobic!”

“If you say so!” Bubby said, before turning to Benry and saying, still audibly, “I can’t say I believe him. Rude, isn’t it, how the jackass turns right around to lie to your face?”

Gordon stared at the two of them in despair before putting his face in his hands.   


“ _ I never should have let you two meet. _ ”

Bubby smirked, and barely held back another comment. Gordon gave a tired smile back. At least they knew to stop, even if they noticed ten minutes too late.

After a few more moments of not-entirely-uncomfortable silence, Bubby snapped to attention. “Well! Off we go. Mr. Mothman, I would love to have you on the film set.  _ What _ a breath of fresh air.” He said, shooting a sharp look towards Gordon, “Let’s go!” With that, he grabbed a cup of water that he had left in Gordon’s home a few weeks earlier, and dashed towards the exit at an alarming rate. 

It’s a bit of a tight fit in Bubby’s car, what with an extra person along and all of their gear, but they make do. The place they’re heading to, Wellington Lake Hospital, is supposedly haunted by a grey lady- an incredibly common story in America thanks to the Civil War. Nurses on the battlefield, benevolent more often than not, and sighted so frequently they have their own sections in many ghost story collections. Investigating a grey lady is a safe, low-energy episode, usually, but you can never be too sure. 

Bubby screeched to a halt about a mile away from site, throwing Benry forward. Gordon was used to Bubby’s method of driving, so he remained more-or less unshaken. 

“We made it! You and Mothman can get the cameras set up while I look for security guards! I won’t hurt any this time, I remember.”

“Bubby, this place is supposed to be  _ abandoned _ , if you manage to hurt somebody I’ll be impressed. Wait, no, don’t take that as a challenge. Just- go do your thing.”

With a thumbs-up, Bubby poured his cup of water over his head and sprinted towards the building. Somehow, his hair never got less spiky when it was wet. 

Gordon turned to Benry. The car’s sudden stop shocked him, and his fluff was all on-end, making him look like he fell into a vat of radioactive pom-poms. 

Gordon stifled a laugh.  _ Cute- UH, NO- _ Gordon stifled that thought as well. Benry shot him a glare to which Gordon returned a smile. 

Between the two of them, they were quickly able to set up all the cameras necessary. 

“Well, that should be it!” Gordon said, picking up a couple of larger cameras and a mic, “Let’s go. Bubby’s not gonna be back until he finds someone to bother so that he can pretend he fought his way in.”

Benry stood for a moment before saying in his typical deadpan, “hey, where’d a loser like you even meet such a cool guy. it doesn’t, uhhh, make sense. is all.”

“Okay. Alright, Benry. I’m not that uncool, for one thing, and for another he’s wearing a  _ turtleneck _ . But to answer your question, since I’m a good friend, and that’s what friends  _ do! _ ” Gordon paused to gather his thoughts again, 

“... Is talk, he works at the same radio center I do, and we ended up making the show together as a joke. Well, a joke at first.”

“huh…? whuh.”

“I can’t. I can’t say anything. Nothing gets  _ through _ ! … Do you even have ears?” 

“i, uh. i have ears. …you can talk about your, uh, stupid lame for-babies show if you - want. to do that.”

“Y- No. No, I’m alright. Let’s just go.” He picked up even more equipment in one arm, kicked at Benry’s side of the car, and started for the building.

The filming itself was uneventful. Gordon admitted that it was filler pretty early on, but Bubby managed to get footage of some weird stuff. Probably local kids, or something. Dunno why they’d draw so many dogs, especially not the same one. Benry ruined a few good shots by talking about food, but they re-filmed it easily enough.

The editing was simple, and the episode went up quickly. Gordon and Benry spent most of the afternoon either playing video games, or scanning the video’s comment section. 

“hey, look at that, dude. is that, uhh, a camera or something? that was - one of ours, right?

“Uh, yeah, obvio--” Gordon noticed what he was pointing at, a black box at the wall of the room covered in portraits and dogs. “Oh. I don’t think that’s a camera. Bubby would probably have smashed it if it was…”

* * *

“Oh, this is quite...  _ interesting _ . It appears that one of our, ah, most  _ wanted _ specimens has… appeared, again. And with a human, no less. I presume you will want to… retrieve, it, yes?”

“Sure thing, boss. I mean, I’m getting paid for this, so why not. This oughta be easy.”

A voice came from another room, and the G-man stood. “I must be… going. I hope you won’t hold it against me. My son is… quite rebellious, these days. I hope you don’t disappoint me, Forzen.”


End file.
